


a point where two worlds collide

by gernumblies



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, F/M, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-15
Updated: 2018-10-15
Packaged: 2019-08-02 19:12:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16311026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gernumblies/pseuds/gernumblies
Summary: Sometimes the universe hits you with a big "fuck you" and all you can do is embrace it. Sometimes it's a blessing in disguise. This time Robin finds that it comes in the form of a laugh that sounds a bit too much like a bark.





	a point where two worlds collide

**Author's Note:**

> this is a re-write of a silly lil oc fic i started writing a few years ago on fanfiction.net  
> my writing has changed a lot in the last two years (as have i) and my passion for this fic had just disappeared. i thought the little editing i did a while back would make me proud enough to want to keep writing it but it didn't work. so here i am! this will have the same skeleton but if you were a fan of the original i still urge you to re-read or a lot of things won't make sense.  
> a BIG thank you for those who have stuck with me from the beginning with this. it means the world to me.

Life was starting to feel like _Groundhog Day_ . You know, the Bill Murray film where that poor sucker wakes up to the same shit every morning. That was me now. New morning, same shit, nothing discernible to make it any different from the rest of the week. And I guess part of me liked the routine and how repetitive it all was. No nasty surprises and safety in what I knew. At 7am, I'll wake up and scroll through _Instagram_ for as long as possible until Mum starts testing how much strain her vocal chords can take and I'll decide that maybe being five minutes late isn't an option anymore. 8am, shower and brush teeth and eat breakfast at the table with Tilly while she tries to simultaneously plait her hair but then the mousy strands are falling in her cereal and I'll wonder if milk is a nourishing treatment. 9am, I'm at school now and have started the daily staring contest with the classroom clock until the little hand drags onto the 3 and I think about how it's not long now until I can curl up in bed with _Netflix_ and a snack because I just don't have the mental energy to do anything productive. There was an exception to my procrastination and laziness, though. Books! Anything from _Pride and Prejudice_ to _Harry Potter_ to _The Lies of Locke Lamora_ and more. Some I held more dear to my heart but I'd read anything I could get my hands on.

And that was why on the morning of August 3rd, 2014 the smell of paper and ink was thoroughly wedged in my nose. Tiny fists were pounding against the outside of my bedroom door stopping only for the small moments that their owner wished to shout my name. "Robin! Get up, get up!" the voice said over, and over, until I finally peeled my face off of the book I'd fallen asleep on the night before.

"Give me a bloody second!" I cried out, bringing a hand up to wipe sleep out of my left eye. The two little shadows that I could spy seeping through the gap under my door told me that my human alarm clock hadn't left yet. I promptly grabbed the tube of lip balm I had sat on my bedside table and threw it with a lack of care—or hand-eye coordination—at the door. "I mean it, Tilly!" The shadows danced away with a patter of footsteps.

The first thing I did was check my phone, like a true millennial. The screen was void of notifications apart from a single text from the contact of " _Hole-y_ ".

[08:21] HAPPY BIRTHDAY LITTLE BIRD!

[08:21] Come over later to get ur present bitch

[08:23] That's an order, not a question btw

I didn't have many friends to be honest, no big group of inseparable mates with big personalities. But there was always Holly. It didn't matter how many stupid fights we had because we'd always cave and cry it out together once the loneliness got too much. "Purely platonic soulmates," is what she called us.

[09:03] Order? U have no power on this day!

[09:03] What the Birthday Girl says, goes

[09:03] ...But is 4pm alright?

I stood up, then sat down again because all the blood rushed to my head and made me lose my balance, then stood up again and pulled on a fuzzy jumper over the thin tank top I'd worn to bed. Once I'd brushed my teeth and washed my face I continued down the creaky staircase into the living room where I found Mum sitting on the sofa, Alfie pulling at the loops of her dressing down beside her. He didn't seem to see me, so I swooped in like an airplane and scooped him up into my arms. The toddler gurgled on giggles and fanned his arms about, hitting me in the face a few times on accident. "G'morning, handsome!"

"Happy birthday, love," Mum said, taking a sip of her coffee. We hadn't done the whole Hide And Surprise The Birthday Kid thing since 2011. They'd all jumped out at me and I'd exploded into tears. None of us had realised it was a panic attack until a year later.

"Thank you!" I found my place next to her and brought Alfie down to sit on my lap. "Where's Tilly?" Mum craned her neck to watch the doorway behind us and as if on cue, my younger sister came padding into the room with a glass of orange juice clenched between careful hands. She refused to move her gaze from the drink until she'd seated herself on the ottoman, determined not to spill a drop. "Shouldn't have filled it to the brim," I told her with a smug smile.

"Robin!" she whined, and Mum gave me a look that told me I was pushing my luck. A tantrum from Tils wouldn't exactly be a great start to the day. It was only now that I noticed the gift bag about a metre from my feet and I was filled with a mix of anticipation and the tiniest bit of dread. I loved presents, of course I did, but I hated the watching eye of everyone who wanted to see my reaction. Felt like too much pressure.

Mum noticed my stare and passed the bag to me. "No faking. I kept the receipts." A laugh escaped my lips and I slowly shook my head at her in disbelief.

"Aren't we going to wait for Harriet?" I asked, and nodded towards the stairs. Harriet was my older sister and probably my least favourite sibling. She was much more extroverted than me, constantly catching rides to town with her friends and doing some rather risqué shit that I promised her I wouldn't tell Mum about. Still loved her, though. "Or is she out already?"

"No point in trying to get that one up before she decides she wants to."

That was all the indicator I needed to reach my hand into the bag and retrieve the first present. Alfie took to playing with the screwed up wrapping paper straight away. I got a few new books from both Tilly and Alfie which I promptly thanked them both for with hugs and lots of tickling. Harriet had given me a top which I was almost certain I had already seen her in before but decided not to say anything since it looked like she might have actually gone and wrapped it herself. Which was a miracle, by the way, since she barely lifted a finger for anyone. Finally, Mum had gotten me a small oval-shaped silver locket, inside of which was a family photo from a few years back. "Oh, Mum," I started, and put a hand on her shoulder. "It's beautiful! Thank you." I brought it up and around my neck, clasped it at the back, and decided that I'd never take it off.

Mum chuckled quietly at my excitement and patted my leg before standing up and collecting all the scrap paper. Alfie had starting chewing on a piece. "Right. Do you want to go and get dressed and we'll try and catch breakfast at the Little Chef?" she asked. My stomach grumbled in agreement with her plan.

It was when I was loading my new items back into the gift bag to take up to my room that I realised there was one left. "Mum?" I rummaged right to the bottom and pulled out the small tortoiseshell box, turning it over in my hand thrice. "What's this?"

Mum looked at me, perplexed, and turned to Tilly. "Tils? Did you sneak that in?" The nine year old was thoroughly entranced by the television but managed a quick glance and shake of her head. "Well, must be from Harriet then," Mum concluded.

I furrowed my brows and let my fingers roam the polished exterior of the box until the suspense was too much and I opened the bronze fastening. Inside it was inlaid with a deep purple fabric acting as a soft bed for the golden object which sat upon it. My eyes must have widened at the sight. It was an extremely realistic Time-Turner replica, shining in the light as I held it at different angles. "Isn't that from the movies you like? The magic ones? With the magic man?" Tilly's attention was caught now.

"Wizard," I corrected her. "And I like the books better." Which was true, and Harriet must have taken note of this. Which was awfully out of character for her, but I wasn't about to complain. I added the box and the Time-Turner to my bag and breezed past Mum, worrying that we were going to be late. "Thank you again, Mum! I'll be quick." She smiled in return.

Back in my room, I pulled the Time-Turner back out. I felt weirdly attracted to it and started to wonder if my liking of the shiny thing meant I should've been named after ravens instead robins. I inspected the words etched along the complexities of it.

_I mark the hours, every one,_

_Nor have I yet outrun the Sun._

_My use and value, unto you,_

_Are gauged by what you have to do._

"What I have to do?" I whispered to myself, wondering what I would use it for if it were real.

I'm not sure why I did it, why I even bothered—perhaps just to humour myself—but I lifted a hand and placed a single finger on the hourglass. And then I spun it. My gaze fixed on it as, instead of slowing to a stop, it defied gravity and its speed increased. The complex design began to merge into a golden blur and I held it out away from my body, acutely aware of the wind whipping at my hair. My view was changing a hundred times, and then a hundred more. Silhouettes of different figures whizzed past my vision and an array of colours merged into another set of pigments. My stomach tied itself into numerous knots and seemed to flip up into my lungs, my breath getting raspy. I was starting to feel sick with what I saw and closed my eyes, dropping to the floor with a thud. "It's not real. It's not real, I'm just dreaming." I mumbled explanations to myself, baffled by what was happening around me and too scared to open my eyes.

Suddenly I felt the ground still beneath me and I took a few deep breaths, counting my own heartbeat. The small amount of bravery in me told myself to not be such a coward and I hesitantly peeked through a twitching eyelid. I froze on the spot at what I saw.

I was still standing in my bedroom. By all means, this was the same room. But now my yellow walls were covered in a mint paisley wallpaper and my carpet was ripped up and replaced by dark floorboards. My wrought iron bed frame wasn't by the window anymore and my dresser was nowhere to be seen. The only furniture now situated in this room was a desk and a chair and the shelves were in completely different places with no trace of their previous whereabouts. Even the ceiling light lacked that vintage lampshade I loved so much.

Bile rising in my throat, I reached up and pinched the skin of my arm as hard as I could, wincing at the unexpected pain. "Fuck." That was when I started panicking, running to the window and blinking a few times when I couldn't locate my neighbour's home. "How can a whole house disappear?" I whispered in disbelief, pacing back and forth countless times and still not being able to believe my own eyes. It must have been now that I subconsciously pulled the chain of the Time-Turner over my head. "I've gone mad, utterly insane!" About time, I concluded.

The sound of keys at the front door stopped me in my tracks and I froze, listening to someone enter the house. Foolishly thinking it might have been Mum, I ran down the stairs and almost fell backwards at the scream I was met with. A lady roughly in her sixties and holding an awfully pink handbag stood before me—a lady whom I'd never seen in my entire existence. "What're you doing in my house?" I gaped at the intruder.

The woman ran to the console table nearby and grabbed an ugly flowerless vase, holding it above her head. "What are _you_ doing in _my_ house!" she screeched.

I flinched, waiting for the vase to come crashing and splintering across my skin but the blow never came. Before me the strange woman stood completely still as if turned into statue by Medusa herself. "Hello?" My words failed to make her move. She wouldn't even blink. My blood started to roar in my ears now and I did the only thing that my body knew to do in that moment. I ran. I ran out the front door, still barefoot and in my pyjama shorts, right down the road and further into the centre of town. I didn't look around me, but I supposed people might be staring. It took me longer than you'd expect to realise that it was raining and getting heavier by the second. The concrete pavement was wet and slick and I almost tripped more than a few times but I kept going until my pace turned into a jog, and then a fast walk, until my feet hurt too much to move at all.

Eventually I found an alley down the side of someone's house and panting, slid down the brick wall until my arse hit the floor with a thud. All I could feel was the adrenaline spiking through my extremities and the fear that was making my heart race and my eyes prick with tears. Why did that woman stop moving? Did I kill her somehow? I had not a single explanation for what had just happened in the last ten minutes. So, I squeezed my eyes shut and clenched my hands over the locket at my chest. "Wake up," I told myself. "Wake up, wake up, wake up!" I repeated the words until I felt it. His presence at the mouth of the alleyway.

My eyes carefully lifted, panning up from the ground. A pair of slippers were connected to billowing royal blue robes which were in turn connected to the face of an old man with long, silver hair that was streaked with auburn. He had a beard of the same appearance. My reaction might've been delayed, but I scrambled up into a standing position to face the man. My mouth opened to say something, but nothing came out. "My dear child, you look as though someone has tried to drown you," the man said. His voice held a lightness and humour that didn't seem fit for the occasion, and yet I still felt my shoulders release their tension just a bit.

"Who… who're you?" I asked. I was shuddering with shivers now.

"We haven't the time for that now." He retrieved a long, thin piece of wood from his robes and extended his hand towards me. An idea of who he might be was nagging at my brain but I refused to let my thoughts go there. That would be impossible. "I corrected your mishap back at the house and now we must continue on before attention is drawn."

"How do I know I can trust you?"

"I am afraid you have nothing but my word."

That wasn't the answer I was looking for but the twinkle of kindness I saw in his eyes behind a pair of half-moon spectacles told me he was safe. Maybe I was crazy, but I found myself reaching out and taking his offer.

The second my hand met his, I felt like Augustus from _Charlie and the Chocolate Factory_ when he fell in the Chocolate River and got sucked up that pipe. Everything about my being seemed to squeeze inwards. Once the sensation stopped I released my grip and fell to the floor onto my knees, gasping for breath. It wasn't long before I snapped my head up and marveled at my surroundings. We were no longer in the alleyway, no longer even in my village. All I could see was old buildings with thatched roofs and cobblestone pavement. "How did you do that?" I whirled around to the man.

"Apparation," he said, as though it were the simplest thing on earth.

"Appa-what?"

"You will understand in due time," he told me. He lifted the thin piece of wood that he had gotten out earlier. This time I looked at it more carefully and admired the etchings and design it seemed to be made up of. The man waved the wand-like object and almost instantly I felt a warmth wash over me and every droplet of water on my skin and damp piece of clothing clinging to my frame was now dry as a bone. "Would you kindly accompany me to the castle?"

I was in shock. I couldn't think of a single thing to say. I think I was completely checked out for the walk up to this castle he was talking about. Part of me was still thinking this was a dream, but no dream I'd had before had felt like this. This wasn't murky and faded and barely-there, it was bright and vibrant and real. And I couldn't get a grasp on how it'd happened.

By the time we reached the outside of the towering building my eyes were roaming hungrily over everything they saw, devouring as much detail as possible. There were actual towers, made from stone with cracks splitting off into continuously unique patterns. A set of stairs was all that was left between us and the large oak door that I assumed was the entrance. I was panting by the time the old thing creaked open.

"This," The man paused to gesture in front of us. "Is the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

I blinked once, checked the man's face for a sign of joking, and then promptly started laughing. "Oh, really? Come on, where are the cameras?" I stepped further into the castle and started searching. "You can come out!" I called. My voice echoed. I turned back to the man. "You really got me good there, but it'd be bloody lovely if I could just go home. How'd you pull off the clothes drying magic trick?" I tugged at my jumper. The man only looked at me with a bemused expression and pressed past me, starting up a long flight of stairs. "Hey!" I followed after him, jogging to catch up. That's when we reached the end of the set of stairs and another floated into place before us. Literally floated. In thin air.

That was when I fainted.

~O~

When I woke, all I could see was a dim, pale light. Eventually my eyes focused and I could see many empty beds all lined up in the vertical room I was in. The bed beneath me was stiff, and I was on top of the covers. It took effort to pull myself up and I could feel the pang of a headache coming on. The fading light told me we were nearing night, so I couldn't have been out for more than a few hours.

Seemingly brought on by my rousing, a flustered woman strode towards my bed. "How is your head?" she asked, concern making her face all pinched. She hadn't given me time to answer before brushing away the hair that was stuck to my forehead and checking my temperature with her palm. "Hm, a bit warmer than I'd like. I'll ask-"

"-You may leave us now, Madam Pomfrey." A voice interrupted the lady. At the entrance to the room stood the same tall, thin man from before. _Madam Pomfrey_ , he had said. As in, Harry Potter's Madam Pomfrey? It couldn't be.

"Very well," she said reluctantly. "The student records are up to date and on my desk. I shall see you when the new term begins." I watched as she fetched her bag and shrugged on her coat before making her way out the door.

Once Madam Pomfrey was gone, the old man made his way over to my bedside. "I take it that you are feeling better?" he asked. I wasn't sure how I felt, but I nodded in reply. "If you promise not to have a nap in the middle of the halls again, I should like to ask you to come to my office." A small smile settled on his lips.

What did I have to lose?

The walk to the office was generous due to the ever-moving staircases. Looking at it all made me feel a bit sick, but a bit excited at the same time. I couldn't fathom how it could be, but perhaps this really was Hogwarts? It was all carved stone and moving portraits. Yes, actual moving oil paintings all over the high walls. The first one I encountered made me jump out of my skin in surprise. Now a few floors up, we stopped in front of a large… gargoyle? "Sugar quills," the man uttered, just loud enough for me to hear. Almost instantly the gargoyle moved out of the way and revealed another staircase—this one circular and unmoving. The man proceeded up the staircases and taking one last breath, I followed him up.

The room was more wondrous than anything I'd seen in my entire life. The castle was spectacular, yes, but we had many castle ruins in Britain. But this, this was amazing. More portraits lined the walls aswell as bookcases and trinkets. It felt alive, as if every object was breathing magic into the air. I wanted to go around and inspect everything but before I could I decided that that would be rather rude. "Are you going to tell me what this is now?" I asked the man, trying to keep my impatience out of my voice. It didn't seem fair that I was just thrust into this place with no explanation or answer.

He looked amused—perhaps by my ignorance—and motioned a hand towards the chair in front of the desk which he was now sitting at. "Sherbet lemon?" I shook my head at his offer and plopped myself down into the chair. "Introductions first, yes?" He stretched a hand out for me to shake, and so I did, as silly as it felt. "My name is Albus Dumbledore, I am the Headmaster of Hogwarts. And you?"

"No," I said, shaking my head again. "But that can't be true!" Dumbledore's face asked a question and I conceded. "Robin. My name is Robin Morley and none of this should be real."

"And why should it not be real?"

"Because you're supposed to be a character in a damned book!" I exclaimed. Immediately I felt embarrassed, and started playing with the hem of my jumper. "I'm sorry, I just have no idea what's going on! Don't you have any idea? How did you even know where to find me?"

"The Ministry sent me. Detection of underage magic, in front of a Muggle no less. But what I have come upon is a confused and frightened girl." Dumbledore sighed and brought his hands together. "If I had to guess, I would say that what you are wearing around your neck has something to do with this."

Confused, I looked down at myself. My eyes stopped on the Time-Turner, still dangling from my neck. Immediately, I pulled it off and passed it over to the Headmaster. "The Time-Turner. It… it should only be a replica. Those things aren't real! I was just messing about in my room and I spun it and… now I'm here."

"These too are from these books you are talking about, yes?"

"Yes. All of this is. It's not real, it's all just a story." I was chewing my lip now, anxiety building up in my chest and threatening to burst.

Dumbledore scratched his beard in thought and slotted the Time-Turner away in the drawer under his desk. "Time-Turners should not work like this. I can only assume that you have not only traveled in time in a far greater span than should be possible, but you have also traveled through a plane of existence. I doubt that you are in the same world that you started in."

My breath caught in my throat. "That's ridiculous." I pushed my chair out, ready to storm out the door. "I can't… what about my mum? My family? Are you saying they're not here? What do you mean, ' _traveled in time_ '? What year is it?" The questions tumbled out with no control on my part.

"It is July 23rd, 1976. I know no more than you, I can only assume that you are here for a purpose."

"Why do you say that with such… finality? Don't you know how to get me home?" When no answer came I buried my face in my hands.

The Headmaster stood from his seat. "My suggestion is that you stay here at Hogwarts and pose as a transfer student. I'll wrap things up with the Ministry."

"But what if people start asking questions?"

"Then we shall make sure that you have the answers to those questions." With a small swish of his wand, a piece of material floated down from one of the many tall shelves. It was a hat. "You are now Elspeth Gladwyn, a new sixth-year student who has spent the last five years unaware of her powers. Your Muggle mother was abandoned by your magical father while you were an infant and in spite, she kept you from this world. Recently, however, she has fallen victim to terminal illness and you are free to start your studies. Elaborate as much as you see fit. But first, we must sort you." I suddenly felt as though I should be taking notes.

As he rested the pointed hat on the top of my head I could almost _feel_ the old and battered thing invade my thoughts with legilimency. Perhaps this was a bad idea? Would the Sorting Hat be able to see what I know of the future? Of Harry's life? "Ah, what do we have here? Aren't you a bit old?" The hat chuckled softly to itself and continued to speak quietly. "Well, yes, you're clever enough… a knowledge of magic but perhaps not experienced in the practicality of it. A sense of justice, and unwavering loyalty. Unusual... perhaps you would do well in Hufflepuff?" Butterflies fluttered in my stomach as I contemplated life at Hogwarts. As a Hufflepuff? "But no, hm, there's something else there. Hidden courage, and a very important task. Right, then. GRYFFINDOR!" It bellowed out its decision quite unnecessarily, in my opinion, as I wasn't a first year in the Great Hall and the only audience here was an old man.

Dumbledore removed the sentient being and placed it back in its home. I bounced in my seat, not knowing how to stay still. "But, sir! I'm not even a witch!

"If you are not a witch, then how do you explain the Freezing Charm that you cast on the Muggle woman earlier today?" Dumbledore took his seat again.

"I? I did that? That was me?"

"Well, it certainly wasn't the Muggle. It appears that in this universe you are magical, whereas in another I may be nothing more than a mad old man." He watched me with playful eyes. "I believe you have been placed here for a reason, by something beyond even my knowledge." My nerves weren't calming and my heart was still racing, befuddled by everything I was hearing.

"I'm just a random girl from Eastbourne! Why does the world need me here? To change things or something?"

"We will save that adventure for another day."

That's bloody well, I thought. All I wanted right now was a cup of cocoa and twelve hours of sleep.


End file.
